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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578190">Wartime Fling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleandjanuary/pseuds/whaleandjanuary'>whaleandjanuary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Awkward Sexual Situations, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sexual Experimentation, pretending it's just casual sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:27:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,472</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleandjanuary/pseuds/whaleandjanuary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after the reunion at Garreg Mach, Claude von Riegan and Lorenz Hellman Gloucester make a little private agreement. </p>
<p>They spend the occasional discreet evening together. (They may not be that discreet.) </p>
<p>They explore various interests and help each other blow off steam. (There may be some ... mishaps.) </p>
<p>It's the perfect arrangement, because while they respect each other and are perhaps even friends, they certainly aren't romantically interested in each other. (They may be <i>giant freaking liars</i>.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Eventually you have to make a choice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The premise of this fic is, "Claude and Lorenz are friends-with-benefits during the war, living through a variety of sexual disasters and other 'learning experiences,' and Definitely Not Falling In Love." </p>
<p>Other characters will be tagged as they show up.</p>
<p>(No actual smut for the first couple of chapters. Also the first chapter ends on kind of a downer note but I promise it gets better relatively quickly.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm sorry," said Lorenz, "I <i>must</i> have misheard you. You are proposing ... a dalliance?"</p><p>Claude nodded.</p><p>"With ... me?" </p><p>Claude nodded again. Casually! As though he hadn't just said something unfathomably ridiculous, in ... in Lorenz's own bedroom, indeed!</p><p>Claude leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. "That's not exactly the <i>phrase</i> I used, but yes." </p><p>Lorenz sniffed. "Yes, well, I'm not much of a fan of the phrasing you did use. My friendship already is a benefit, and a hard-fought one at that. I hesitate to think of what other <i>benefits</i> you might be referring to." </p><p>Claude moved his teacup aside so he could lean forward and put his elbows on the table. "Do you want me to show you?" </p><p>"Claude, I -" Ugh. Lorenz was starting to blush. Claude was such a villain when he so desired. (Which was ... frequent.) "Claude, I don't even like you." </p><p>"I know!" said Claude. He grinned, at least half sincere. "That's exactly the point. No risk of long-term attachments. Besides, you like me just fine. You might not <i>liiiiiike</i> like me, but you respect me. We enjoy each other's company." He waved at the tea service. "You wouldn't have come to the reunion if you couldn't stand me. And you wouldn't side with me so often at the Roundtable if you didn't like me." </p><p>Lorenz let out his breath with an exasperated huff. "I came to the reunion for the Professor." And to get a break from his father. Claude was a distant third at best. "I side with you when your arguments have merit. And I side against you when your arguments are abysmal, if I cannot bring you back to reason. Which is infuriatingly frequent." </p><p>Claude raised his eyebrows and his bright green eyes seemed to sparkle - ugh! Irrelevant details to get caught up on in the middle of this discussion. Negotiation. <i>Discussion.</i> "Oh? But I know about all of the times when you don't really care and you still side with House Riegan." </p><p>"That's simply to make the meetings end faster." Damn him. </p><p>"Regardless, we make a good team." <i>That</i> was Claude's flattering smile. "And you didn't answer my question earlier. Do you want me to show you what I mean?" </p><p>It occurred to Lorenz that this had gone beyond normal teasing. So, it had to be a more complicated trick of some kind. "What sort of scheme is this, Riegan? Is Hilda going to burst in here to mock me?" </p><p>"No - what?" He ... that expression might have been sincerity. "I told you what my motives were. What I'm getting out of it is pretty obvious, I'd think. I don't know -" Claude sat back and gestured at the door. "- go look in the hallway if you think somebody's out there." </p><p>Lorenz started to get up. He grabbed the back of his chair and turned. But then he stopped. First off, he was jumping at shadows. Second, if <i>he</i> were Claude, he'd tell Hilda to wait till <i>after</i> Lorenz checked the hallway to eavesdrop. </p><p>Now Lorenz was paralyzed, and strangely nervous. </p><p>Claude shook his head. "I don't think I can prove myself to your satisfaction. You're either going to have to trust me or not." </p><p>Divining whether Claude meant <i>only</i> what he was saying was an arcane art, but Lorenz was reasonably practiced. He thought Claude wanted to be taken at face value, which made Lorenz pause. </p><p>This whole thing must be some sort of farce. This wasn't who Claude von Riegan was. This wasn't who Lorenz Hellman Gloucester was. Yes he'd come to terms with his mind's stubborn refusal to limit its interests to women. Yes, he'd suspended his campaign for the proper spouse. But that was different from saying he would ... he didn't even know how to articulate it. That he would seek pleasure as a diversion? </p><p>And Claude was right - there was no way for Lorenz to definitively know he was being sincere. </p><p>But ... but that meant this was a choice. He could <i>choose</i> to trust Claude. And he <i>would</i>, he realized. Because if Claude wasn't worthy of his trust, if he was the sort of man who would toy with Lorenz's emotions like this and then say it was all a joke ... then he truly wasn't fit to lead, and Lorenz should ride back to his father and say this whole thing was a mistake. </p><p>"All right," said Lorenz. He took in and let out a shaky breath. "Show me." </p><p>Claude gave a tiny smile that Lorenz had never seen before. "Maybe this won't work," he said, as he stood and came around the little table to stand in front of Lorenz. "Maybe it'll just be weird. But ..." </p><p>Claude put two fingers under Lorenz's chin, tipped his face up, and kissed him. </p><p>It was ... nice. It was rather chaste, but Claude's lips were warm and the pressure was pleasant. Claude pulled back after a second, then kissed him again, slightly harder this time. </p><p>"Again?" he asked, voice low and lips so close to Lorenz's mouth. Lorenz nodded. </p><p>This ... ah, this kiss was deeper. Claude parted his lips and Lorenz followed. When Claude licked into Lorenz's mouth, Lorenz made some kind of undignified moaning noise that he was <i>not</i> going to think about. Instead he focused on the sensation of Claude's lips, the warmth of his mouth, Claude's hand sliding along his cheek before tangling in Lorenz's hair. (Which he should be annoyed by. Should be.) </p><p>Claude broke the kiss all too soon. Lorenz opened his eyes, which had closed somehow. Ah, well, the, hm. He licked his lips involuntarily. </p><p>Claude looked self-satisfied, but only a little. "Did you like it?" </p><p>Irrelevant; this was ludicrous. "Yes." </p><p>"Do you want - do you want to keep going?" Was Claude <i>nervous</i>?</p><p>"<i>Yes</i>." Lorenz's voice sounded strange to his ears, too low and too rough. But Claude moved to kiss him again and Lorenz could get his throat checked later.</p><p>Lorenz pulled Claude into his lap. (No, that was absurd; Claude must have sat himself down.) Claude's kisses grew rougher. Lorenz slid his arms around Claude's waist. He was solid and ... comforting, though <i>Claude would never hear this from him.</i> </p><p>Claude tugged on Lorenz's hair to lean his head back, then started pressing kisses into Lorenz's neck. Lorenz made a soft noise that he hoped sounded appreciative. With his other hand, Claude started to pick at the buttons on Lorenz's vest -</p><p>Lorenz panicked. He stood abruptly, dropping Claude (who - ow - clearly took a few strands of hair with him.) </p><p>"Ineedtothinkaboutthis!" Lorenz said, as Claude dusted himself off. </p><p>Claude briefly looked shocked - eyes open wide, lips reddened, cheeks flushed. Then Lorenz watched Claude's face <i>shut down</i> and he almost screamed no, he took it back, come back come back - but he did not scream. He stood there like a badly-carved statue.  </p><p>"All right. Sure," said Claude. "Take your time." </p><p>"This isn't a rejection. I need to ... I ..." Lorenz opened and closed his hands, unable to finish the sentence even in his mind. </p><p>"It's all right, Lorenz." The mostly insincere smile. "I have stuff to do anyway. Let me know what you decide." He waved, like he was talking to a passing acquaintance, and left Lorenz's room.</p><p><i>You fool,</i> Lorenz thought. <i>You hurt his feelings. A thousand ways you could have asked to take things slower, but you chose to practically throw him across the room.</i> </p><p>Lorenz needed to think. (And not about Claude's lips.) He washed out the teapot and cups, which offered a few minutes of routine to settle him. (Not about Claude gently directing Lorenz with his fingers in Lorenz's hair.) He changed into his nightclothes. (Also not about that one little sigh Claude made into his mouth.) Then he lay on his bed (<i>over</i> the covers), and stared at the ceiling. </p><p>(Definitely not about what Claude's hands might have felt like upon Lorenz's bare chest, if, if ...)  </p><p>Lorenz slept poorly that night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. smooth like a shark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Claude von Riegan is completely unfazed by this minor setback. It's fine; that's what backup plans are for.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Still no smut; that should start in chapter 3. Can I offer you some Claude POV to tide you over? </p>
<p>This chapter lists a couple of background ships, so if you need to nope out on Caspar/Linhardt or Marianne/Hilda, now's your chance. They're just mentioned in this chapter but they will show up for real later. </p>
<p>For the purposes of this fic, Claude &amp; Lorenz showed up at the monastery ready to have their A support conversation, and we're currently mid-month in Chapter 14.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claude pulled off his gloves and threw them into a corner of his room. <i>Well, you fucked </i>that<i> up, didn't you?</i></p>
<p>He'd had a plan. Really. He'd carefully considered the best way to approach Lorenz and ease him into the idea. An innocent discussion of past dating experience. Maybe sitting next to each other instead of across. A platonic exchange of shoulder rubs? Then maybe a kiss, after a couple of weeks of gentle conversations.</p>
<p>And what did he actually do when he got Lorenz alone? He took one sip of tea and blurted out, "Hey Lorenz, have you ever thought about being friends with benefits?" </p>
<p><i>Idiot. You're a complete idiot.</i> His boots joined the gloves with a pair of thumps. </p>
<p>And then he climbed into Lorenz's lap! (Well, Lorenz pulled him down. But still!) </p>
<p>Claude was very good at flirting. Good at flirting and keeping it right there.  Light, friendly, no commitment. A perfect tool for putting people at ease or keeping them a little off balance, depending on how you pushed. </p>
<p>But Claude had never translated this into getting people into bed. Bed was dangerous. Bed was where armor came off and where people kept their secret knives. </p>
<p>Claude forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths, holding the air in before each exhale. Lorenz was going to hear him stomping around and that was the last thing he wanted.  </p>
<p>It wasn't that Claude wasn't interested in sex. He was; he wasn't a virgin or anything. But he'd never been the one to <i>start</i> things. Back home he'd learned not to let people close long before he had any interest. At the Academy he'd been too busy to waste time with romance even in the most casual sense. He'd had a couple of nice experiences in the first two years of the war, but then he'd become Duke Riegan, and Duke Riegan couldn't date. He could become betrothed maybe, but that was the complete opposite of what Claude wanted. </p>
<p>But then he'd come back to Garreg Mach, and Teach had miraculously returned, along with his old classmates and teachers. And here he was with most of the people he trusted, all in one place. Was it such a crazy thought that there was someone here he could spend the occasional evening with?</p>
<p>Claude shrugged out of his jacket and sighed. Lorenz had been such a logical person to approach. Maybe not his <i>first</i> choice. If Claude could have had his pick of anyone, he'd probably have asked Teach. But that felt like ... like trying to fuck the sun; what would success even <i>look</i> like?</p>
<p>No, Lorenz had made a lot of sense. They got along well enough now. Claude had seen Lorenz grow up a lot in the last five years, <i>blossom</i> even ha ha ha. Lorenz had proven impressively competent at the Roundtable when he attended in his father's stead. He was still frequently annoying, but at least Claude could appreciate now how it was in the service of some greater good. Lorenz's focus was towards the Alliance as a whole. Count Gloucester's, frankly, wasn't.</p>
<p>Claude had been slightly worried for Lorenz when he'd been called back to Gloucester territory eighteen months ago. His letters were terse and uninformative, and the Count's assertions that Lorenz had requested to return home were the sort of obvious lie it wasn't even worth calling him on. </p>
<p>Claude had been significantly <i>more</i> worried when Lorenz vanished four months ago, apparently disappearing from his family's manor in the middle of the night. Various frantic messages were exchanged among the Deer until he turned up with the Victors, of all people. </p>
<p>So it wasn't much of a surprise when he and Ignatz showed up to the reunion together. No, the surprise was his appearance - hair grown out and elegantly swept, violet and gold breastplate gleaming in the morning light, the ease with which he moved horse and lance alike. He'd grown into his features, his form just a shade broader and less pointed. </p>
<p>When he first greeted Claude with a small smile after the battle, there was still a splash of blood on one cheek. Even that looked dashing, like someone had placed it there for artistic effect. </p>
<p>Claude found he was relieved to see him, and to talk to him. To keep talking to him, even. Maybe they were friends now. If he was going to trust Lorenz with the Alliance, it might make sense to trust him with other things. </p>
<p>Which is why it was logical to reach out to Lorenz after he conceived this plan. And maybe it was a silly plan, but most of Claude's really good schemes were a bit ludicrous on paper. It had made sense! </p>
<p>Claude stumbled slightly trying to get out of his pants. He should be freezing given the month, but he needed air. He tugged his cravat open and off before it could strangle him. </p>
<p>Augh, and then he had said, "Take your time," after Lorenz rejected him. Great, that was dignified. Take your time?! Lorenz said he needed to <i>think about it.</i> "I need to think about this" was just a rejection he was going to have to wait for! What was he doing? </p>
<p><i>Okay, okay. Calm down. You're being ridiculous.</i> He needed to be thinking about something else. He was too keyed up. </p>
<p>Maybe ... a little meditation till he was calm, and then he could go back to food distribution schedules for the rest of the evening. </p>
<p>Claude finished stripping down to his undershirt and shorts. Then he sat on the floor, crossed his legs, and put his hands on his knees. He closed his eyes. What was he feeling? </p>
<p>The rug underneath him. Annoyance. Embarrassment. The slight breeze coming in through the one open window panel. </p>
<p>The lingering sensation of Lorenz's lips upon his. </p>
<p><i>Okay! Maybe I'll do something else!</i> Claude hurried to his feet. Not a night for meditation, then. </p>
<p>What else was calming? <i>Plans.</i> Sure sure, he called them <i>schemes</i> in public because that was in keeping with his persona. But they were just plans - step-by-step guides to life's little terrors and contingencies, and they were what kept him sane, and they were what kept him alive. </p>
<p>Claude flopped down on his bed. A casual observer might see all the books strewn about and think there was no way to lay upon it, but in fact there was exactly enough space for the way Claude liked to curl up to sleep. Or think. </p>
<p>Maybe being direct wasn't the wrong approach. It had been the wrong approach for Lorenz, but there was probably no right approach for him. Given the whole idea of "let's blow off some steam without attachments," wouldn't he want to be direct? Wouldn't he want someone who appreciated dealing with the boundaries up front?</p>
<p>Also, he was <i>not</i> going to ask everyone in the monastery. He wasn't Sylvain. (He hoped Sylvain was doing okay. He hadn't sent a letter in over a year.) He would ask one, maybe two more people, and if it didn't work out, he would <i>stop</i>. </p>
<p>But who could he ask? He could eliminate a few people right away. Bernadetta would be terrified, and Dorothea was looking for a serious relationship.</p>
<p>Caspar and Linhardt were already a couple. He had no idea if they were interested in entertaining the occasional third, but he didn't really want - actually, maybe that was good from the no commitment angle. Okay, <i>maybe</i>. </p>
<p>Hilda would possibly be interested, although she was likely to be either incredibly boring or <i>terrifyingly efficient</i> in bed. Claude was also pretty sure she and Marianne were getting together, if they hadn't already. That took out Marianne as well. </p>
<p>Raphael? With Raphael he had the same issue that had prevented him from reaching out to a certain lovely (and tragically deceased) prince some years ago - he didn't want to be injured by someone who didn't know their own strength. He might be being unfair to Raphael, though. Claude's type might be a bit more tall and slender than tall and broad. But ... maybe. </p>
<p>What about Ignatz? No, he could <i>hear</i> Ignatz politely saying, "I'm flattered, but no thank you." </p>
<p>(Later, after the war, Claude would ask Ignatz what he <i>would</i> have said, and Ignatz would respond, "Oh, I'd probably have said no thank you, but I was flattered you asked." Never let it be said that Claude von Riegan didn't know his friends.)  </p>
<p>Ingrid didn't like him, or if she did she had a weird way of showing it. </p>
<p>Felix was a stunning and deadly vision, and had somehow shown up more muscular and <i>more</i> tightly wound than five years ago. But Felix seemed incredibly risky. Claude estimated a fifty percent chance he'd go, "Tch. Ok. Take off your pants," and a fifty percent chance he'd put a sword through Claude's heart. And Claude wasn't sure if that was "once" or "per date." </p>
<p>Lysithea ... okay, Lysithea was <i>not</i> a child, had clearly grown up both temporally and in height. But Claude did still kind of think of her as a kid. This was all irrelevant anyway; Lysithea would say she was too busy to have even a casual relationship. (Which was how Claude had felt for a long time. It was too bad; they'd probably be fairly compatible given other circumstances.) </p>
<p>Annette? Annette was charming and adorable. He liked Annette. She had cute hair and goofy songs. He wasn't entirely sure she'd be interested but ... Claude liked her. A definite maybe. </p>
<p>And Leonie ... well, Leonie had approached <i>him</i>, had been the one who put the idea in his head, really. They'd tried it a couple of times but had discovered a surprising lack of chemistry between them. Apparently they were better as friends. </p>
<p>Claude laced his fingers behind his head. No obvious choices, though there were a couple of people he could try. See, this was why Lorenz should have taken him up on the offer. They could have had fun, but they had zero romantic potential to get in the way of their other priorities. </p>
<p><i>Stop it. You're being sore because somehow you put yourself into a position where Lorenz of all people could reject you. You're being ridiculous. He's not even that cute.</i> </p>
<p>Maybe he didn't need to limit himself to former students. Everybody was an adult here now. They were all soldiers in the same war. </p>
<p>Like ... Shamir. Shamir was cool. </p>
<p>What about Flayn? Flayn probably <i>would</i> be up for it, assuming he could avoid <i>Seteth immediately murdering him</i>. </p>
<p>Claude laughed. He should ask Seteth, if only for the humor value of watching the man sputter. Although on the miraculous off-chance that he did accept - </p>
<p>Someone knocked on his door. Who was calling this late? </p>
<p>"Who is it?" </p>
<p>"Who is - Claude, who else would it possibly be?" What? Lorenz? Claude sighed and got out of bed. Maybe he was here to slap him but at least then it'd be over. </p>
<p>Claude opened his doors to find Lorenz standing there in a robe, some kind of loose, silky pajamas, and ... slippers with little birds on them. </p>
<p>It occurred to Claude, entirely too late, that he'd failed to put any of his clothes back on and was standing there in his underthings. </p>
<p>Lorenz didn't seem to notice or care. "I have conditions!" </p>
<p>Claude blinked, for lack of anything better to do. "You what?" </p>
<p>Lorenz crossed his arms and folded in on himself a little. "Your offer. I accept it, but I have conditions."  </p>
<p>This was unexpected. "Oh, uh, okay? Do you want to come in?" He motioned and Lorenz swept into the room. He would have looked rather elegant if not for the aforementioned little birdie slippers, which Claude could not stop staring at. Where did he get those? </p>
<p>Claude was rapidly realizing that he'd been making an average-case plan but had needed a best-case one. He shut the doors and turned back to Lorenz. "What conditions?" </p>
<p>Lorenz drew himself up to his full height and spoke with a voice that tried to project confidence. "I have three. First, we have to use your room. You have this unreasonably large bed, and if I -" the confidence had <i>already</i> bled out of his tone "- if I regret this, I don't want to feel obligated to set my own bed on fire." </p>
<p>Claude snorted. "Okay. Sure." He'd intended to use Lorenz's room, since Lorenz didn't have a neighbor and Claude had <i>Felix</i>, but they could make it work. He started picking up books. He did have the bigger bed; it was why he requested the room. "What was condition two?" </p>
<p>Lorenz took a deep breath. "This <i>must</i> remain secret. I could not abide it getting out. If anyone finds out about this, I will kill you, and I remind you that I can set people on fire with a word." </p>
<p><i>Oh no. We're not doing this.</i> Lorenz was probably exaggerating, but ... best to nip it in the bud now. </p>
<p>"Well, that's convenient," said Claude, slowly, "because I'll kill <i>you</i> if it gets out. Maybe a dagger to the throat while you sleep? Some sort of poison in your tea that will have you vomiting blood all over the table?" </p>
<p>Lorenz opened and closed his mouth a few times, although no sound came out. He took in Claude's face, then turned his gaze away. He folded his arms again. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate of me," he said, quietly. </p>
<p>"Yeah, Lorenz. It really fucking was." </p>
<p>Lorenz snapped his head up. "Must you - no, I suppose it is fair under the circumstances." </p>
<p>Claude sighed and shook his head. "To be serious, Lorenz ... okay, first off? No joking about murder. That's a rule I'm making right now. I don't like it. Don't do it. Second, I'm perfectly willing to be <i>discreet</i> but I refuse to be <i>ashamed</i>. We're not doing something dirty and wrong. People have sex. Someone might find out about us and I'm not going to lie if they do.</p>
<p>"Can you accept that? If not, you should go. No hard feelings." </p>
<p>Claude waved at the door. Lorenz put his face in his hands and Claude could hear him just breathing for ten, fifteen seconds. Then he slid his hands down till they were only covering his mouth, and nodded. </p>
<p>Lorenz put his hands down at his sides. "I can accept that. But ... my parents. My father ..." He didn't complete the sentence, but also didn't need to. </p>
<p>Claude took one of Lorenz's hands. "I know. But nobody here's going to tell them. You've already shown there are things you care about a lot more than their opinion. And come on, could your father hate me more?" </p>
<p>Lorenz rolled his eyes. "Well ... perhaps not." </p>
<p>Claude took his other hand. "Come on, little birdie. Spread your wings and fly." </p>
<p>Lorenz pulled his hands back and slapped at Claude's. "The - these were a <i>gift!</i>" He looked down at the slippers. "Hmph. Are you going to talk like this in bed?"</p>
<p>"Honestly? Probably. But come on, what was your third condition?"  </p>
<p>Lorenz twisted some hair in his fingers. "It ... ah ... it was more of a thinly veiled insult against your outfit ... with the hope of transitioning into more, ah, activity. Never mind." </p>
<p>Claude opened his arms. "You can't give me a lead in like that and then not deliver. What were you going to say?" </p>
<p>"You're not even wearing it right now." </p>
<p>"I'm not going to let this go until you tell me." </p>
<p>"No, you won't, will you." Lorenz sighed, then spoke as if reciting from a script, "And take off that ridiculous outfit. I don't want to feel as though I'm making love to a sofa." </p>
<p>Claude considered. "Mmm. B-plus for effort, but you've done better in the past." </p>
<p>"Well, I didn't have very much time to think of something." </p>
<p>Claude smiled. He did like their back-and-forth quite a lot. "Are you ready for my conditions?" </p>
<p>"Oh!" Lorenz gave a small, sharp nod. "Yes."</p>
<p>"All right," said Claude. "We're not dating. Either of us can break this off at any time, no hard feelings. This ends with the war when we both have to go back to our lives. I'm not putting any particular acts off the table, but ask first, especially before doing something new. I'll always ask, too. This is supposed to be fun, and I want to know if it's not. Do <i>you</i> have any limits or interests you want to talk about now?" </p>
<p>"Ah ..." Lorenz looked a bit taken aback. "... No. Not at the moment. I enjoyed kissing you? I wish we hadn't stopped, although perhaps having this conversation was necessary." He started to pick at the place on his robe where the rose would normally be pinned. "You must know my experience exists but is limited. I assume that the charming and ebullient Claude von Riegan has greater knowledge." </p>
<p>Claude sat on the bed and motioned for Lorenz to join him. "I've had a number of partners." Say what you will about "three," but it was definitely a number. </p>
<p>Lorenz sat on the bed and crossed one leg over his knee. "Now what?" </p>
<p>Claude wondered how much of his frame was armor and how much was muscle. No time like the present to find out, perhaps. "You said you liked the kissing. We could go back to that, and then see where our hearts take us?" </p>
<p>"Our hearts, is it? Hm," said Lorenz, with a raised eyebrow. "All right." </p>
<p>Claude held out a hand. "Then come closer."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You can assume the other professors and Knights of Seiros are around, but Claude didn't make it through an exhaustive list of everyone he could theoretically try to get with. </p>
<p>I'm still in no position to promise any kind of regular update schedule, alas.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lorenz sleeps poorly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally, somebody gets naked.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, uh, per-chapter tags: hand jobs, orgasm denial (but not as an end in and of itself?), half a second of spanking. Also there are a couple of lines that make some comphet assumptions that I'm telling you right now are the result of dumb Gloucester Crest-baby expectations and not a sign of where the fic is going. </p>
<p>I was waffling on this in the background but they're both cis here. (Lorenz might be nonbinary but I don't think he's going to figure it out during the war.) </p>
<p>Also: I don't care; they have modern underwear. They import elastic from Dagda; Rhea's banned it for every other purpose but Claude wears boxers with wyverns curled into little hearts and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead body.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lorenz looked at Claude's outstretched hand. "Wait a moment." He stood and took off his dressing gown and placed it over the back of Claude's desk chair. He stepped out of his slippers. Then he took a deep breath and pulled his nightshirt over his head. </p>
<p>"Lest I decide I <i>need more time to think</i> again," he said. He folded the shirt and put it over the dressing gown. He crossed his arms nervously but could not make himself move further. </p>
<p>Claude stared at him for a moment. Then he stood and went to Lorenz. "Hey." Claude tugged Lorenz's arms open and embraced him. </p>
<p>"You look nice." He ran a hand up and down Lorenz's back. "You feel nice. You know, for somebody who seemed interested in going to bed, you're being surprisingly hard to get <i>into</i> the bed." </p>
<p>Lorenz took Claude's face in his hands and kissed him. "Did you think me an easy conquest? Perhaps I am easy but I am not <i>trivial</i>." </p>
<p>"I'm not sure I'd call five years easy," Claude muttered. </p>
<p>"Excuse me? What did you say?" </p>
<p>Claude grabbed Lorenz's rear with both hands. "You have a nice butt, too." </p>
<p>Lorenz stuttered slightly. "Ah - well - naturally. One's body is as a house of worship, and to take good care of it is to give glory to the Goddess - oh my ..."</p>
<p>Claude slipped a hand inside the waistband of Lorenz's sleep trousers and gave his rump another squeeze. "Mm. And do you think the Goddess spends a lot of time looking at your ass, Lorenz?" </p>
<p>Oh dear. Embarrassment and arousal were fighting within him and arousal seemed to be winning. Lorenz cast about for something to keep the repartee going. Claude continued to move. He traced a hand down to Lorenz's thigh and pulled his legs apart. Claude nudged his own leg in between, hip pressed against Lorenz's front. </p>
<p>"Now, we could stay like this if you prefer," Claude said, pulling Lorenz closer and lightly kissing his collarbone, "Or, you know, we could go to that bed you were so insistent upon using." </p>
<p>Lorenz rolled his eyes. "Very well." Claude led them the three feet back to the bed and sat Lorenz down. He smiled (amused) and pulled off his undershirt. </p>
<p>It hadn't left much to the imagination since it was sleeveless, but shirtless Claude was still, as they say, a <i>sight</i>. He was muscular, but with a bit of overlaid softness - the body of a fighter who'd spent too much of the last few years in meetings instead of doing wyvern backflips or whatever Riegans did for fun. </p>
<p>Also he was hairy. Lorenz knew this intellectually. He'd seen Claude's arms. (Also he'd seen Claude's chest. He'd seen basically everyone's chest. They'd <i>been</i> to the sauna. There was no reason for this to be different. <i>It was definitely different.</i>) </p>
<p>Lorenz had sprouted a small patch of violet hair on his chest when he was fourteen and had spent the next two years eagerly awaiting the rest of it. He was ... eventually forced to conclude that it was all he was getting. It was honestly less embarrassing to shave. </p>
<p>But Claude was pleasantly fuzzy. Lorenz was briefly seized with a mad desire to bury his face in Claude's chest hair. </p>
<p>He settled instead for placing both palms flat on Claude's body, pressing his fingertips into his warm skin, and dragging his hands down to Claude's stomach. </p>
<p>"Do I meet with your approval?" asked Claude, quietly, with a raised eyebrow. </p>
<p>"You're very masculine. Very handsome." Lorenz's hands continued to wander. For some reason the first word that had come to mind had been "virile," but that felt as though it would be strange to say. </p>
<p>"Well, I'm glad to pass muster," Claude said. He wove his fingers into Lorenz's hair and tilted his head back. A small gasp escaped Lorenz but he met Claude's lips eagerly. He pulled Claude into his lap, determined to actually keep him there this time. </p>
<p>===</p>
<p>They kissed until Lorenz felt lightheaded from it all. Claude's hand gently pulling at his hair felt delightful. Claude's other arm wrapped around his waist felt good. Claude's weight in his lap felt solid, Claude's thighs bracketing him were a comfort rather than a cage. Claude's rear was firm, with just enough give under his hands. </p>
<p>And Claude's mouth - all that time he spent exercising it <i>did</i> have some value. His lips were both enticing and soothing. His tongue was <i>clever</i>, providing darting flicks or long strokes or any variation in between. Somehow Claude was drawing the most ridiculous noises out of him, truly shameful little moans and whines but Lorenz didn't care. </p>
<p>All he cared about was the way Claude's lips on his neck were sending sparks down past his belly, and the way Claude kept pressing his hips forward. Lorenz had worried a bit about how quickly he'd become excited, but, ah, Claude's interest was clearly also piqued so perhaps it was all right? </p>
<p>But now he wanted ... was it too forward if he wanted to <i>know?</i> "Claude? Claude. Claude, can I - may I?" He plucked at Claude's underwear. "May I remove these?" </p>
<p>Claude pulled back with a slightly dazed look. "Oh? Oh. Heh, yes." He pushed himself off the bed and pushed his underwear down to the floor. "Ta-da!" he said, putting a hand behind his head. "What do you think?" </p>
<p>Lorenz searched his brain, but his extensive knowledge of etiquette failed to unearth a proper method for complimenting a paramour's manhood. Claude was, er, proud, and, ah, uncut in the Adrestian tradition, and - and words failed him, but more interaction was definitely desired. </p>
<p>"May I ... may I touch?" And here, Lorenz erred, because Claude clearly heard the hesitancy in his voice, and pounced upon his moment of weakness. </p>
<p>Claude tilted his head and said, "Touch what, Lorenz?" </p>
<p>Lorenz frowned. "... You." </p>
<p>Claude crossed his arms, raised his eyebrows, and grinned widely. (Utterly disingenuous.) "Touch my shoulders? Sure. I like a good shoulder pat as much as the next guy." </p>
<p>"You know ... hmph. You know what I mean." Lorenz's face was growing hot. Ridiculous. Claude was the one who was naked. </p>
<p>"No, I don't think I do." Claude gave an exaggerated shake of his head. "Where exactly do you want to touch?" </p>
<p>"You are a vile miscreant and history will not look kindly upon your crimes, Claude von Riegan." </p>
<p>"That is <i>not</i> a body part, Lorenz. Please try again." </p>
<p>"You're teasing me," Lorenz said, through gritted teeth. </p>
<p>"Yes! Thank goodness you noticed! And I'm having an incredible time doing it, I have to tell you." Claude stepped closer, placed his hands on Lorenz's knees. </p>
<p>"Tell me you want to touch my dick, Lorenz. You can't say it, can you?" Claude bit his lip. "Hmm, how would Lorenz Hellman Gloucester refer to a dick? Not cock, certainly. That's too vulgar. Penis? Too plain. Oh no. Oh no, you don't call it 'little Lorenz,' do you? That must be too twee. If that's what you call it please don't tell me. I can't live in that world. Hm. Member? Ugh, you probably do, don't you. Length? Rod? One's personal lance? Have you ... have you ever ironically or unironically used the phrase 'tumescent manhood'? Maybe that isn't flowery enough for you. The sword that doesn't kill? Staff of life? Seed trebuchet? Babymaker? The engine that produces spunk? Something completely obscure like 'the fountain from which one's vital -"</p>
<p>Lorenz knew a very small number of tricks one could use against Claude, but here was one of them. Every once in a while, Claude would get spun up like this, where he was paying no attention to anything but the words pouring out of his own mouth. And if you were <i>fast</i> you could catch him off guard, like so - </p>
<p>Lorenz stood on "obscure," swept Claude up on "fountain," threw him onto the bed on "vital," and then further words were lost as Lorenz climbed on top of him and whispered, harshly: "Yes, Claude, I want to touch <i>your dick</i>. I want to wrap my hands around your dick, Claude. I want to stroke you until you beg me for release, Claude."</p>
<p>Lorenz sat back, settling all his weight on Claude's hips. "Are you satisfied?" </p>
<p>Claude shivered. "Fuck. <i>Fuck.</i> Yes." </p>
<p>Lorenz folded his arms and attempted a withering stare. "Do I have permission to touch <i>your precious dick</i> then?" </p>
<p>Claude nodded. "You know ..." he said, placing his hands on Lorenz's hips and rolling his own hips up to meet him, "... if you're going to get like this when I make fun of you, I'm just going to do it more." </p>
<p>Lorenz sighed and rolled his eyes. "Shut up and help me get the rest of my clothing off." </p>
<p>===</p>
<p>Claude stripped Lorenz with little fuss and looked him over approvingly. "Nice." He thumbed the head of Lorenz's - ugh, now any descriptor sounded ridiculous. "Solid." </p>
<p>"What happened to 'ask before doing anything?'" asked Lorenz, although he wasn't truly annoyed. </p>
<p>"Well, honestly I thought that would be for more complicated things like, 'Let's roleplay a prisoner and guard,' or 'I want to spank you,' or 'Let's bring in a third.' But ... is it ok that I'm touching you?"</p>
<p>"Yes, yes, of course." Lorenz could ask about those other things ... later. At this point he was content to let Claude take the lead. </p>
<p>Claude grabbed a bottle of something out of one of his desk drawers. He positioned them both sitting on the bed, but facing each other. </p>
<p>"What is this?" Lorenz asked as Claude poured something wet and smooth into both of their hands. It seemed like some kind of lotion? </p>
<p>"It's moisturizer. But it's good for any external use, like this. What, you think you're the only person with a skincare routine?" </p>
<p>Lorenz shook his head. It made sense. Claude's skin was too beautiful to be uncared for. </p>
<p>"Here. This way we can both -" Claude scooched forward so they were closer, Claude's legs over Lorenz's and loosely around his waist. "This way we can both touch each other." Claude made a fist around Lorenz. Slick, wet, but ... also Claude's grip was firm. Lorenz's eyes fluttered shut. </p>
<p>No, wait. Lorenz opened his eyes and took hold of Claude as well. What did Claude even like? He leaned forward to kiss him and hoped his nerves weren't so obviously written on his face. </p>
<p>"Don't look so nervous. I'll tell you if you do something I don't like." Of course. Fine. Lorenz started pumping his fist. Experimentally. Just to see. </p>
<p>"But what do you like?" Lorenz asked. "Much though I'd love to pretend to expertise, I don't know your preferences at all." </p>
<p>Claude started moving <i>his</i> hand and this was going to be a problem for Lorenz's composure very soon. "Shhh. You're fine." </p>
<p>"Right, but how -"</p>
<p>Claude put his thumb on Lorenz's lower lip. "Relax, Lorenz. I like this and we'll figure it out together. Open up." </p>
<p>"Wha - ah?" Lorenz opened his mouth (to <i>object</i>) but Claude pushed his thumb inside and Lorenz somehow closed his mouth on it? Claude also tightened his grip on Lorenz slightly and - oh, Lorenz was feeling rather a lot of things at the moment. </p>
<p>"See? Embrace the occasional moment of silence, Lorenz." Lorenz refrained from biting him. No reason to answer rudeness with rudeness. Maybe it was all right to close his eyes. </p>
<p>Claude was true to his word and provided directions. Fairly simple ones, honestly. He seemed to know what he wanted. </p>
<p>In part, what he wanted seemed to be <i>shoving his fingers in Lorenz's mouth</i>. At some point he replaced his thumb with his index finger, and then another and ... possibly another? Lorenz wasn't exactly sure, but Claude seemed pleased and made encouraging noises and that was what mattered, certainly. Also it felt surprisingly good. </p>
<p>Claude adjusted Lorenz's hands a little - a bit lighter on the touch, a bit faster. And after a few minutes, he felt Claude tense, and in a quiet voice say, "hah - close." Lorenz opened his eyes in time to watch Claude arch his back and climax. Fascinating. Beautiful. Uh, wet. </p>
<p>Claude opened his eyes and grinned. (Wicked.) "See? Nothing to worry about. Let's take care of you, hm?" </p>
<p>===</p>
<p>"'s good. So good," Lorenz mumbled around Claude's fingers. </p>
<p>Lorenz lost time. Just the sensations of Claude's hands were ... he felt like ... like his mind wasn't working right. Claude's hands were the only thing in his world. There was a metaphor about a bowstring he'd read in several saucy stories and now he knew what it felt like. </p>
<p>Claude pulled his fingers out of Lorenz's mouth. He let go of Lorenz's - ugh, fine, <i>dick</i> - and shook his wrist out. </p>
<p>"One sec. I need to change hands." Lorenz blinked slowly at Claude. "Ok," Claude said. He reached down and Lorenz sighed happily. They stayed like that for a minute, then Lorenz brought Claude's free hand to his lips.</p>
<p>Claude's eyes lit up. "Ohhh ... well, if that's what you want." He pushed his fingers inside Lorenz's mouth. </p>
<p>Lorenz was going to write a secret poem about this experience. It was just going to be a blank page, but he'd know what it meant. Or maybe not a blank page. Maybe just the outline of a hand. Why was it so good? Claude wasn't doing anything particularly different but having it be <i>his</i> hands made everything so much better. Lorenz felt like he was thirty seconds from a wild climax. He thrust his hips up to meet Claude's fist (well, as much as possible given their positions.) </p>
<p>(Later, Lorenz would think about how he'd completely unraveled before Claude, and would worry about how to shut away <i>desirous Lorenz</i>. But it quite literally wasn't in his mind at the moment.) </p>
<p>"Hm," said Claude. "Hold on." Lorenz made a confused hum into Claude's fingers. "I want to try something different." </p>
<p>Claude let go of Lorenz and got off the bed. He picked up the bottle of lotion, and smeared more onto Lorenz's palm. </p>
<p>"Here," Claude said, and moved to sit behind Lorenz. "Show me." He pulled Lorenz back into his lap and pressed his chest up against Lorenz's back. "Show me how you do it." Claude put his hand on the back of Lorenz's and closed it around Lorenz's length. Lorenz shuddered. </p>
<p>Claude whispered, "You liked it when my hand was in your hair, didn't you?" Lorenz nodded. Claude pulled Lorenz's head back until he gasped. "Good. Show me." And Claude put a bruising, biting kiss into Lorenz's neck. </p>
<p>Lorenz wouldn't have thought this would be exciting, that it would be too like touching himself alone. But it was not in any way, shape, or form like that. Claude was like a warm blanket wrapped around him, and his hand upon Lorenz's made it feel like Claude was the one doing everything. Claude continued to kiss Lorenz's neck, and Lorenz briefly thought to ask him to stop, that he was probably leaving marks, but the moment passed in a haze of sensation. </p>
<p>When Claude - when he - when they - when Lorenz's lust finally erupted out of him, he could hardly think for the intensity of it. He heard a noise like a cut-off sob. And as waves of pleasure broke over him, he realized he wasn't the bowstring suddenly snapping. He was the arrow into a heart. </p>
<p>He could feel Claude lowering him flat onto the bed and murmuring something soothing, but the words were lost. </p>
<p>===</p>
<p>A bit later, after Claude cleaned them up, Lorenz said, to the ceiling, "This really wasn't how I expected to lose my virginity." </p>
<p>Claude, tossing the used cloth into a pile of dirty clothes, made a face. "That wasn't -" He tilted his head slightly, then sat on the bed and took Lorenz's hand. "Thank you for trusting me with this important moment." </p>
<p>Lorenz narrowed his eyes. "You're mocking me." </p>
<p>"I am trying desperately not to." His left eyebrow twitched slightly. Claude von Riegan was the only person in the world who had a tell for when he <i>wasn't</i> lying. </p>
<p>"Is it so ridiculous to think I might have pictured a romantic evening with my future spouse?" </p>
<p>"No, no," said Claude, rubbing his thumb over the back of Lorenz's hand. "But first times are usually pretty fumbling. But hey, tell your future wife I said you're welcome for breaking you in for her." </p>
<p>Lorenz frowned. "I am not a horse." </p>
<p>Claude smirked. (Impish; about to spring a trap.) "A rider then? You have impressive thighs. I'm sure they look great when flexing. I'd be happy to be the steed if you were the one mounting - Lorenz, Lorenz, please put your eyeballs back in your head." </p>
<p>Lorenz made a choked noise and sat up. "Could we ... work our way up to that. Yes, I am attracted to men too but I am still coming to grips with the anatomical -" he waved a hand "- details." </p>
<p>Claude put a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. "Lorenz - yes, I promise. That's why I said to ask first, right?" </p>
<p>Lorenz gave him a wary nod. </p>
<p>"We can wait till you're comfortable. If you're comfortable." Claude leaned forward and kissed Lorenz on the lips, then the cheek. "But I'm kicking you out now. I want to work on this food schedule and you look like you're going to fall asleep in my bed." </p>
<p>Lorenz dragged a hand down his face. "Ugh. I am. How do you have any energy at all?" </p>
<p>Claude shrugged and stood up. "I don't know. I just do. My head's clear and I'm ready to go." </p>
<p>"Well, I suppose that's good for you. I am off to sleep though. Goodnight." Lorenz thought for a moment. "And ... thank you?"  </p>
<p>Claude grinned. "Happy to help. I have a request for next time, though." Claude was dressing - well, he was putting his underthings back on. </p>
<p>Lorenz's mind raced, but he kept his face neutral. "Certainly. Anything - within reason." Less kissing? More kissing? Wear something different? Goddess, he was washed sufficiently, wasn't he? Perhaps just something Claude liked but hadn't brought up on a first encounter? Different - </p>
<p>"Stop masturbating." </p>
<p>"<i>What?</i>" No, Lorenz could have considered possibilities for an hour and not gotten <i>there</i>. "Why do you want input onto, onto <i>that</i> topic?" </p>
<p>Claude put his hands up. "I'm not trying to control you - or judge, I swear." He came back to the bed, put an arm around Lorenz, and brushed a thumb against his furrowed eyebrows. "And not forever. But I saw how hard you were holding yourself. You have to regain some sensitivity if you don't want to be finishing yourself off by hand every time we meet up." </p>
<p>How hopelessly vulgar. But this ... well, tonight hadn't gone exactly how Lorenz had hoped. Ugh, Claude was probably <i>right</i>, wasn't he. How perfectly infuriating. </p>
<p>Lorenz hesitantly patted Claude's chest. "I'm not saying no. I'm merely ... taken aback." More like <i>mortified</i> but if that wasn't obvious from his face, Claude didn't need to know. "You're certain it will help?" </p>
<p>"It'll be worth your while," Claude said, kissing his forehead. "I promise." </p>
<p>===</p>
<p>This was a nightmare. Lorenz had agreed to active torture. As if he hadn't put in real effort to stop thinking of it as <i>self-abuse</i>, to treat it as something normal. (Even for a noble, even for one who was supposed to be above such things.) He'd spent years working through all of those mental stretches and flips and other gymnastics, only to have <i>this</i> happen? </p>
<p>The real problem was that it was interfering with his sleep. Touching himself was a fairly typical part of his nighttime routine. If the occasional innocent fantasy helped him to rest, was that a problem? He wasn't hurting anyone. He wasn't even thinking about anyone he knew. (Even if the beautiful strangers had green eyes when male, and the female ones sometimes had Marianne's exact breasts. Or Hilda's. Or what he presumed Hilda's - anyway.)</p>
<p>But his body expected - he was - he was having trouble falling asleep. He would lay there, half aroused, trying to decide if he was better off thinking about things or keeping his mind blank. Neither worked, and he suspected he was eventually falling asleep out of sheer frustration. </p>
<p>He was probably only losing twenty or thirty minutes a night, but it was adding up. He was becoming <i>short</i> with people. He was picking stupid fights with Claude at council, instead of clever, witty fights. Leonie asked him what was wrong, and he took the coward's path and told her he was having headaches from stress. </p>
<p>The <i>Professor</i> asked him what was wrong, and when he told her he wasn't sleeping well, she suggested he go to Manuela. Ha! He could imagine that conversation. "Excuse me, Dr. Casagranda, but Duke Riegan tells me my dick doesn't work right. Do you have anything for it?"</p>
<p>So he was suffering. But he was Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, and he was going to rise to the occasion. Bad description. Terrible description. <i>Don't think about anything rising.</i> He was going to meet this challenge head-on - <i>but with which head</i> - no, that was slightly better but still not ideal. </p>
<p>He would endure. There. Simple. </p>
<p>And ... it wasn't as though Claude had told him not to come back until things had changed. They met at least every other night. Claude covered him in kisses, buried his face in Lorenz's neck and breathed deep. Lorenz was learning a lot about what Claude liked - and what he liked. And Claude didn't seem to expect that he climax either, though Lorenz generally wanted - wanted to feel like he had some influence over the situation. </p>
<p>But eventually, regardless of his own state, Claude would lay Lorenz back on the bed and touch him with maddening gentleness. And Lorenz would make progressively more shameful and broken noises as Claude chipped away at his composure. He was like water dripping on limestone - eventually there would be a chasm but Lorenz wouldn't live to see it. </p>
<p>And then he'd <i>stop</i>, and send Lorenz away unsatisfied. Whatever infernal count Claude was keeping in his head would hit its limit, and he'd let <i>go</i>. And he'd tell Lorenz, "It's better. Another few days," and Lorenz would curse him through gritted teeth and try to ignore the dull throbbing in his lower body. </p>
<p>"This isn't a punishment." Again, maddening. Claude always kissed Lorenz after he said horrible things like this. </p>
<p>"Yes well, you have me at a terrible disadvantage anyway." He was <i>not</i> going to beg. "I hope you rule the Alliance justly and well after my death." </p>
<p>"Lorenz, it's been one week. You're not going to die." The kiss that followed did nothing to calm him down. </p>
<p>===</p>
<p>The inevitable erotic dream wasn't even particularly sexy. It was more angry than anything. </p>
<p>He and Claude were arguing. Claude was telling him he'd done a bad job at something and he was <i>wrong</i>. Lorenz had done the right thing and Claude wouldn't listen and - and Lorenz pushed him into the wall? And Claude swept his feet out from under him. And they tore at each other's clothes, and there was something not entirely like wrestling, but then Lorenz had Claude on the floor with one hand in his hair and a knee on his back. </p>
<p>And Lorenz raised his other hand and smacked Claude straight on the ass. Again. Again. And it was Claude making terrible broken noises. </p>
<p>Lorenz woke feeling sticky and sighed. He missed approximately zero things from his teenage years, and this was no exception. </p>
<p>"I hope you're pleased," he said to Claude at their next little rendezvous. "I had to wash my sheets off my normal laundry cycle yesterday, so now you've destroyed me both emotionally and sartorially." </p>
<p>"Doesn't 'sartorial' refer to clothing? I'm not sure you can use it like that. And I'm not trying to destroy you," Claude said, pulling off the last of Lorenz's clothes. "I'm trying to help you." </p>
<p>Lorenz sighed and lay back in the bed. "I hope you're getting off on this. At least then one of us would be." </p>
<p>"Well, maybe I'm having a <i>little</i> bit of fun seeing you at my mercy." Claude tossed the last of <i>his</i> clothes to the floor and lay propped up on his elbow at Lorenz's hip. "But I do want this to be equally good for both of us. I'd rather have you moaning my name than cursing it, you know?" </p>
<p>Claude moved, spreading Lorenz's legs and laying between them. He let out a slow breath directly over Lorenz's dick and Lorenz made a tiny startled, "<i>Oh.</i>" </p>
<p>"I think," Claude continued, "that if you're having wet dreams you probably are ready. Which is good because I'm dying over here." Claude stuck out his tongue and dragged it up Lorenz's length, which was now at some new level of hardness previously unknown to man. </p>
<p>Lorenz made no effort to sound dignified. "Hahh ... Claude, please ..." </p>
<p>"See? Like that. That's what I wanted." Claude lifted Lorenz's dick up slightly so he could close his mouth around the head and - and then <i>Claude</i> moaned, and Lorenz was going to split his life into before this happened and after this happened and -</p>
<p>Claude pulled back, eyes closed, and whispered, "Finally." Then he opened his eyes and smiled at Lorenz. (Teasing, but in a well-meaning way.) "Ready to learn something new?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chatper 4 will be Claude's POV. Still no schedule; I have to go back to this kinkmeme fill I've been struggling with for three months.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Next chapter: Claude stomps around his room going, "Well <i>that</i> was smooth, Claude." </p>
<p>There is no update schedule for this because I really had intended to wait to post this till I'd written more. But I got a bad case of the brainworms and stayed up until 2 am writing this instead of the thing I was supposed to be working on. That's how writing works, right?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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